The Scibe Of Gilgamesh
by Shisuren Heart
Summary: just a short. Who really wrote the epic of Gilgamesh? Read for the answer...


The doors to the throne room blew open and a cold wind blew around the ankles of the priests and nobles assembled to honor their dead king. In the doorway stood a hooded figure dressed in a black cloak lined with red and silver symbols. Gilgamesh's former advisor went pale. "P-P-Priestess! It's a-a-an h-honor t-to-" The woman raised her hand, silencing him. A ruddy faced, fat, and livid priest of Shamash rounded on her. "What are you doing here? What message could great Ereshkigal possibly have for us now?" The temperature in the room dropped. Every torch but the two on either side of the woman went out. She lifted her head just enough to reveal two glowing green eyes. "I come by my own power. But where I walk my mistress walks with me. To question me is to question the queen of the underworld herself. Watch your tongue, Akindu, or I will cut it out of your mouth." She spoke fluently, but there was an accent underneath, something decidedly foreign. It was her voice, as much as her words, which caused the priest to close his mouth with an audible snap. She swept into the room and the doors blew shut behind her. The nobles and priests drew back at her approach. She walked across the room, to the body sitting on the throne, to the man who only hours before had breathed his last. To all that was left of the great king Gilgamesh. She dropped her cloak to the floor, revealing fair curls that fell to her shoulders. She wore a black and silver robe, with an obsidian butterfly clipped to one shoulder, and a sliver rose on the other. She sat before the throne, gazing up at it. "His story should be told." "Yes, Priestess. But by who?" The woman looked lost in thought as the noble who had spoken, Lord Villam, looked her over with interest. She was something of an enigma, even for a priestess. She had immigrated from somewhere very far away, a country she called 'Ireland'. Upon her arrival, she'd found Ereshkigal's temple and apparently been chosen by the queen of the dead herself. Or so the story said. Lord Villam himself was inclined to believe a slightly different version of the tale….. "Lord Villam." It wasn't a question, but he answered it anyway. "Yes, Priestess?" "I would like to see Gilgamesh's writings on his adventure." The other nobles and priests all hurriedly took their leave, recognizing that the time for their presence had come and gone. She stood and followed Lord Villam as he led her to a huge library in another part of the palace. He sat across from her, sliding the tablets to her and lighting a lantern. She read the writings over very quickly, and then turned to Lord Villam. "this." She said, matter-o-factly. "Is as dry as a famer's fields in a drought." Lord Villam choked on a glass of water he'd been drinking. As she glared at him he tried to suppress laughter. "S-So sorry-" He burst into another fit of laughter. The woman frowned. "By Anu, this isn't funny." _Oh, but it is._ He thought, but got ahold of himself. "No, I don't suppose it is." She massaged her forehead. "By Nabu, I'd have though the great king Gilgamesh would be a better writer." Lord Villam nodded. "I read it. I'll admit that that's true." She steepled her fingers. "Now. We need a scribe to improve this story." Lord Villam looked at her. "Do you have a name?" She raised her eyebrows. "What kind of question is that?" Lord Villam realized he'd overstepped his bounds. She was a priestess, after all. "I apologize, Priestess. Carry on with your work." Her frown deepened. "I'm not from this country, Lord Villam. I follow my goddess's rules, but not the rules of decorum in this country. You can call me Gwenevere, if you wish. Gwenevere Eveili." Lord Villam relaxed. "Well, Gwenevere, I think you should rewrite it. I'll help you." She smiled at him. "I would appreciate that. So, what to change?" He rested his chin in his palm. "How about the Battle with Humbaba? What if Gilgamesh wanted to leave him alive, but Enkidu didn't trust him. I thought it was rather cruel when Gilgamesh ignored his plea and killed him without a second thought." Gwenevere pulled out a blank tablet and began. "Anything else?" "How about Enkidu ends up supporting Gilgamesh before the fight begins. He seems like too much of a coward, the way he was terrified the entire time." "Alright."

The story was sent to the archives and temples a week later, written by the Priestess of Ereshkigal, Gwenevere Eveili.


End file.
